


What's a name?

by marcus_aquila



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, fluff/humor/first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcus_aquila/pseuds/marcus_aquila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damn. He had to have a name. As far as he knew everybody had one. Maybe his brain should try to crawl back online again. Now. Chop..... chop.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's a name?

**Author's Note:**

> No need to worry! I'm not starting to write fanfiction. I'll leave that as before to the really talented authors. I was just in the mood last night to plunge into the adventure of trying to post a puny little ficlet on AO3. McShep. What else? Can't wait to see if it works. The posting.

He blinked.

If he ever had a name, he couldn't. Remember. At least. Not now.

He tried again. To blink. To remember.

Damn. He had to have a name. As far as he knew everybody had one. Maybe his brain should try to crawl back online again. Now. Chop..... chop.....

Right. There was. Light. Soft. Dimmed. And. Wait. Was he in a horizontal position? But there was no mud. No grass. No gravel pricking holes in him. A bed?! Ah, infirmary then! Must have blacked out. 

Gingerly he touched his temple. His forehead. The back of his head. No bumps. No blood. No pain. Just sweat. Actually, he was feeling kind of good. Good like in floatingly good. Tired. Yes, Even exhausted to some extent. But. Good. And. Cold. Oh, oh, that was. Bad.

He looked down at his body.

No scrubs. Not infirmary then.

No boxers. No T-shirt either. Not in his own bed then. And sure as hell not in his own room.

He looked again.

Skin. Lots of skin. Pale skin. NAKED pale skin. Without a cover. He felt his heart rate speed up. Felt a minor panic rise. Just a minor. To start with.

Surely he was NOT in the morgue section of the infirmary, was he? WAS HE??? But he wasn't on his back! That much was certain. And surely the bodies in the morgue were NOT stored curled up in fetal balls. Though now he thought of it, he was getting colder by the minute. Dammit.

And still without a name!

But. Wait. Was there water running? Like running from a tap? And light from a door? Falling into the room. And. Steps. Or rather the soft sound of naked feet on tiles? Not Carson then. Never went barefoot in the infirmary. Even less in the morgue. Too cold for that.

Slim feet came in sight. Hairy calves. Skinny knees. God were they skinny! He doubted even Radek had skinny knees like that. Lean thighs. No wonder, that they didn't shiver. They, too, were way too hairy for that. Narrow hips. Furry ribs. He thought he knew them. Must have seen them before, Just couldn't remember when or where. Collarbones. Curving alluringly into the hollow beneath the column of a long strong neck. A disturbingly familiar hollow. A dark, more than stubbly chin.

And a smile. Between pointy ears. Too pointy ears. For his taste. No, scratch that. The smile was gorgeous. On gorgeous lips. Man, were these lips gorgeous. And there were hands. And something flaccid. And more hair. And a washcloth.

It was then when it hit him. Miko's birthday. Radek's booze.

Had he----? Had THEY----? 

He should. Ask. Just after starting to BREATHE again. He could do. That. He was a scientist, after all. Brightest mind in two, in TWO........whatevers. Never mind. He just had to remember how all of this worked. This voice of his. Without all that croaking like static interference as soon as he tried to speak.

The other's smile broadened. Making these gorgeous lips even impossibly more. Gorgeous. Good thing, that at least his own lips seemed to remember how to work without the active input of his... his...brain. How to split his face in half. In answering THAT smile. That. Sexy. Smile.

'Hey, buddy, back to the living again?'

That bastard. Even his voice was smiling.

JOHN. JOHN. JOHN.

After all. What was a name? If the other's name was John. John Sheppard.


End file.
